Pretty Dresses & Perfect Yes's
by Llmav
Summary: In which Austin and Ally spend their prom night together.


**A/N; So yeah, I wrote this quickly because I was kind of inspired, and yeah, the next chapter of The Nanny WILL be up this week, I just need to stop getting distracted by new story lines...**

**This is probably a bit fluffier (too fluffy?) than my usual stuff, or at least more so than any of the other one-shots that I have been writing lately (there's no spanking or prison or dirty talk in here), but how could it not be. It's Auslly and prom and love and unicorns and word vomit and and and...so yeah, fluffy smut. That's what this is.**

**I think I'm about to puke.**

They were walking towards the awaiting black limousine, hand in hand, slowly, their pace of moving one in sharp contrast to the one of his speed-racing heart. The warm nighttime temperature was nicely offset by a slight breeze that was teasingly tickling his neck, making her curls dance with the wind and the light fabric of her red, long dress sway softly as they moved.

It was probably just his imagination, but he felt as if the taste of her was still lingering in his mouth.

He kind of didn't want to brush his teeth ever again.

Well, that would be kind of gross.

But whatever.

He was rubbing her hand with his thumb as they made their way, and he just knew that he had a ridiculous smile permanently plastered on his face. Her hand in his made so much sense that he wanted to scream, in joy, celebrate with the sleeping neighborhood, letting everyone and anyone know that he had _finally_ done it.

He had _finally_ told her how he felt about her.

_Her_.

The one with a capital H.

Or maybe it should be capital A, since her name started with...

Whatever. It wasn't important.

What was important was that she..._she_ _felt_ _the_ _same_ _way_.

He still doubted that _that_ was entirely true, though. There was no _way_ she felt _exactly_ the same way about him as he felt about her, because that would mean thwt she spent _all_ her time thinking about him, all her _day_ daydreaming about him, all her nights _actually_ dreaming about him...

Funny how any doubts he had ever had about the two of them being together had quickly disappeared the second he had put his feelings into actual words.

He would do anything, even go cloud watching and not even sleep with his eyes open, for an eternity and a half as long as he could do it with her.

Oh, and he also wanted to do _it_ with her.

How he had ever thought that dating someone else was a good idea was something that probably would continue to baffle him for years to come.

She suddenly shuddered where she was walking next to him, and he immediately removed his black jacket, wrapping it around her petite frame.

She almost drowned in it, the shoulders hitting close to her elbows and the length of it almost at her knees.

She looked ridiculous.

He had never seen anything hotter. Ever.

Dez and Carrie had conveniently disappeared, finding alternate transportation to the after party that his insane best friend was convinced was going to involve heavy drinking, a crowded pool and possible some llamas.

_He_ had no interest in any of that, he just wanted to be alone. Alone with _her_.

She entered the luxurious car through the back door that he was holding open for her, the scent of her passing through his nostrils as she passed him by, and he almost slammed her up against the car and ripped her dress off of her incredibly sexy body.

Almost.

Self-control.

Right.

God knew he had _lots_ of that.

He climbed in behind her, and she giggled a bit as she sat down on the far back, rich-looking leather seat. "Where are we going?"

He suddenly realized that he had no idea.

All he knew was that he was nowhere _near_ ready for the night to end, nowhere _near_ ready to say goodbye, wanting to prolong their time together into forever, but he would settle for the rest of he night. For now.

He was not ready to say goodbye to her, at all, even if it was only for a few hours.

But he wasn't sure of where to go.

The original plan had been for him and Piper to join her sister and Dez at said after party.

Oh.

Piper.

Crap.

He felt bad that the only thing he kind of felt bad about was the fact that he wasn't feeling bad.

Maybe he should, and maybe at some point he would, but at the moment he was just too happy to care.

Because _SHE_ _felt_ _the_ _same_ _way_.

She looked like she was thinking for a minute where she sat, and then her beautiful face almost literally lit up. She quickly semi-stood up, soon taking a few step towards the middle of the car while hunching down in the low vehicle.

She leaned over the rolled down partition while saying something that he couldn't hear to the chubby driver, who was nodding his head in understanding.

The partition began to rise as the car started moving, and soon they were closed off from the driver and the rest of the world.

The space suddenly felt much smaller, and much more intimate.

Not that he was complaining.

She turned around and sat back down on the far back seat, the long red dress spreading out over the limousine floor, as she threw his jacket down on the seat next to her, then kicking of her shoes while exhaling in what sounded lime pure bliss.

"Oh, that feels good."

Ahhhh, he wanted to make her feel good. So, so good.

He was now sitting down as well, not right next to her as he was suddenly unsure of his much self-control he had left. His guesstimation was 'not much.'

She was saying something, he wasn't sure what since all he could focus on was the way her lips were moving, and he stayed quiet because he wasn't entirely sure that she understand gibberish, and that was the only language his currently jumbled brain seemed to be fluent in.

She turned towards him, facing him sideways, a small smile crossing those delicious red lips.

"So, alone at last..."

She was looking at him with an expression that he didn't necessarily recognize, yet somehow responded to immediately.

At least physically.

She looked like she wanted to play. With him.

As if on cue, she raised her pointer finger, signaling for him to come closer, and he was involuntarily raising something as well.

"Come here."

He was already about to.

He complied, like a well-trained puppy, hoping to receive a bone.

Come to think of it, though, he was already in possession of a bone(r).

A big one.

He scooted over towards her, and once he was close enough, she pulled him even closer by tugging on the skinny, black tie that he had been hesitant in wearing (but now was eternally grateful for. Who would have known that listening to his too persuasive mother would actually turn out to be a good idea?).

The tie automatically tighten a bit around his neck, but that was definitely _not_ the reason as to why he suddenly had difficulties breathing.

No, that wasn't it at all.

But the fact that her lips were instantly tightly pressed up against his probably had something to do with it.

_Definitely_ had something to do with it.

He had only kissed her less than a handful of times before, but he somehow knew that _this_ kiss was different.

Less innocent. _Much_ less innocent.

He let his tongue dance around her lips, then in in between them, entering her mouth, almost forcefully so, as his hands were grabbing her hips, pulling her body as close to him as he possibly could in their current half-awkward, sideway position.

She suddenly let go of his tie as well as his mouth and he grunted in disappointment.

She didn't say anything as she pushed him back against the car seat, then moving to sit on top of him (semi-smoothly so, as the long dress was defiantly clinging around her legs), pulling up the material over her knees before straddling him, her body pressing into his as her dress created a red sea of fabric around them.

He was suddenly _very_ grateful that she had decided on wearing something much less tight than what Carrie had, or their current position would have been downright impossible.

He swallowed hard and she smiled, her face so very close to his and their mouths mere inches apart, as they just sat there and looked at each other for a minute, as if trying to figure out what the other person was thinking.

If his eyes were a mirror of his thoughts, all she would see in there would be a reflection of herself.

She broke eye contact and moved, letting her hips roll into him, as she rubbed up against his in size ever-increasing hard-on, and he quickly wondered if the punch he had drank too much of might have been spiked (and by the way, after about five cups, the brown one _hadn't_ tasted so good, after all), because he almost felt as if he was drunk.

Perhaps he was simply high off of her, though.

She leaned in ever so slightly, and he crashed his lips against hers almost instantly.

The limousine was picking up speed as they started making out, the sound of their mouths moving in sloppy synchrony the only noise that could be heard in the small, hot space. A few minutes passed, before suddenly and almost out of nowhere, the speakers came to life, and he didn't know whether it was intentional or not (as he had no clue as to whether the limo driver had recognized him), but it just so happened to be one of his songs that was blasting out of the speakers.

She giggled as she moved her hips in rhythm to the music, singing along to the lyrics.

Funny, though, how _she_ was the one leaving _him_ wanting more.

And _she_ got _him_ hypnotized.

And he suddenly had _something_ that needed to be freed from its cage, alright.

But he really, really hoped that she wasn't just an illusion.

The limo came to a stop around the same time as the song finished, and although he already missed her body on his the same second as she climbed off of him, maybe it was a good thing, as he currently had about as much sanity left as Dez.

In other words, not much.

He stepped out of the limo, a bit disoriented, his head spinning a bit but _mostly_ because he didn't know exactly where they were.

He helped her out of the car as he scanned the dark scene in front of him, a couple of street lights barely illuminating the nighttime cityscape.

Oh.

They were outside of the mall.

The closed mall.

The closed, empty mall.

The closed, empty mall where her father's store was located.

She smiled sheepishly as she opened her small clutch and pulled out a key.

They made it to the front of the store before he lost it, urgently pushing her up against the store's glass door, his hands keeping hers captured above her head as he once again attacked her lips with his.

He simply couldn't have enough.

They made out there for a minute, him leaning down to reach her mouth despite her high heels, fisting her hair in his large hands while she was running hers over his neck as her taste once again invaded his mouth.

_Mmmmmmmmmmmmm_.

She suddenly pushed him away, ever so slightly, shaking her head almost mockingly.

"_So_ impatient". She had a teasing smile on her face, but by the way she sounded, as if she was almost out of breath, he knew she wasn't completely unaffected, either.

He observed her as she opened the store door, then quickly moving inside to undo the alarm.

He followed, lingering by the store front counter as he was unsure of where they were heading and clueless as to what they were doing there.

She moved to turn on one small light, while turning _him_ on big time, the soft light killing the darkness, and _her_ killing _him_.

She walked up to him, the same teasing smile still present, and he couldn't help it, he really couldn't, but he just needed to kiss her again. And again.

Immediately.

He grabbed her, by the waist, lifting her up and placing her on top of the wide counter, then immediately positioning himself between her half-spread legs. The red material of the bedazzled dress was slightly scrunched up around her knees, the color of her cheeks matching the beautiful gown, the gown that her father probably had had half a heart attack when paying for.

He didn't know exactly _how_ much her father had paid for it, but she undoubtedly looked like a million bucks.

Now _she_ was the one leaning down, even if it was ever so slightly, crushing her lips into his as their make-out session continued, growing increasingly more intense, although it was not as fast nor urgent as it had been in the limo, not as crazy, but deep, slow, exploringly wonderful, his hands slow-dancing over her body in a similar manner to that of which they had danced at the prom, just a few hours prior.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, the red material wrapping around him, and he almost tore that nice looking dress off of her.

He kind of could care about her stingy father's heart at that moment.

If the way it felt to _kiss_ her was any indication of what _other_ things would feel like, he wasn't entirely sure he was going to be able to handle it.

Oh.

_Other_ things.

He suddenly became acutely aware that they were alone.

In the store.

_Completely_ alone.

It was nighttime, the rest of the mall blissfully abandoned, no possible interruptions within _miles_.

His legs were suddenly even less steady and _clearly_, she could get his heart beat beat-beatin' like that.

As if she could tell that he was growing nervous, she unwrapped her legs from around his waist.

"Let's go upstairs."

He nodded, although he wasn't sure that _that_ would have any effect at all on reducing his anxiety, but he followed her nonetheless, as she climbed the stairs, her fancy wedges dangling from one of her hands while she used the other one to lift the dress fabric off of the ground.

They entered the practice room, her still in front of him, and she walked over towards the small fridge as he lingered in the doorway.

"Are you thirsty?"

He _was_, his throat strangely dry, but he had a funny feeling that _she_ was the only one that could quench said thirst.

He shook his head, and she grabbed a small bottle of water for herself before she moved to sit down by the piano, the sound of her letting her fingers aimlessly running over the keys soon filling the room. He still stood by the door, partially becuase he was unsure of what to do, but also because observing her was something he could never have enough of.

She was beautiful, of course, her curls a bit less perfect than what they had been when he had first laid eyes on her earlier in the night, when she had made him do a double take, but somehow even more perfect.

God, that red dress looked as if it was tailor made to her body.

She looked good in red. It was the color of love. And the color of hot temperatures.

And she was undeniably both lovely and hot.

He realized that she had started to play the first few notes of one of the numerous songs that they had written together, and he couldn't help but to walk up behind her, framing her body with each of his arms, soon hitting the piano keys in harmony with her as her back was rubbing up against him, his breath hitting her neck in short puffs.

They finished the song, and she suddenly stood up, taking a couple of steps away from him.

"I'm kind of uncomfortable in this dress, will you help me unzip it?"

Was it just his imagination, or was she batting her long eye lashes at him?

She moved her hair over to the opposite shoulder, looking at him expectantly and he nodded.

Who was he not to help her.

He reached for the zipper pull, tugging on it slightly before it gave in and started to move, his finger unintentionally gracing the skin on her back as he pulled it all the way down, the back of the dress opening ever so slightly, revealing a slight sliver of her bra and the very top of her underwear.

He kind of couldn't breath.

She stepped out of the dress completely, hanging it over the nearby foosball table, and then she was in front of him in nothing but her underwear set, and he was in a state of not having a functioning brain.

"Oh, that's better."

Yes. Yes it was.

"Aren't _you_ uncomfortable as well?"

He was. In so many ways.

He nodded and she walked up to him, first undoing and removing his tie, then reaching for the buttons of his nice, white dress shirt, unbuttoning them slowly as she let her fingers trace the outlines of his chest, down towards his abs, and he almost came in his fancy pants.

She smiled and kissed him, the shirt soon on the floor, her eager hands now working on the button of said fancy pants.

And then he was suddenly in his boxers.

He wasn't sure if he _truly_ tackled her, there was a strong possibility that he might have, because before he knew it and without him really knowing _how_, they were laying down on the practice room carpet, him hovering over her, his body pressing into hers in every way possible as his mouth was wrestling with hers, his already tight boxers growing been tighter by the minute.

And the she reached and removed her bra.

He had seen boobs before.

But not Ally Dawson's boobs.

And Ally Dawson's boobs were little mountains of delight that he wanted to climb.

With his tongue.

He let his mouth travel down her neck, towards said mountains, her protruding nipple almost begging for him to suck on.

So he did.

He could feel it hardening almost immediately in between his lips, making something else hardening in between his thick thighs.

He returned to her mouth after a few minutes of breast action, their kissing no longer just urgent but almost frantic.

He needed to feel her, he needed to touch her...

He reached in between her still underwear-covered legs, letting his fingers brush over her, and he could feel that the fabric was damp.

Damn.

She was appearently soaking wet.

She moaned and reached for his boxers, tugging on the waist band, and although he was almost physically aching for her to touch him, he suddenly stopped her.

He knew that, if she touched him, he would most likely not be able to stop.

And they couldn't do this.

Not there, not at that moment, not on a carpet in the practice room.

She deserved better.

So much better.

"Ally, we, I , I don't...if you're..we can..._wait_?"

She looked at him with an expression of what he assumed to be disbelief.

"I've been waiting for this, for _you_, for _years_, Austin, _years_, and I don't want to wait any longer."

He swallowed hard. Crap. So she had been wanting him for as long as he had been wanting her. That made him feel amazing, but did absolutely nothing to calm his nerves.

Funny how he had never experienced any type of performance anxiety before.

Was this how she felt when she had suffered from stage fright?

"Are you...nervous?" She sounded a bit nervous, as well.

He nodded, because he was usually honest with her.

That, and he was too fucking nervous to even speak.

"Me too. But I know I really, really want to. Do this. With you. But if you don't want to..." She wasn't looking at him where she was laying, still underneath him, her cheeks suddenly burning the deepest shade of red that he had seen all night, and quite possibly ever.

He moved his hand to her face, his large palm almost covering her whole left cheek as he moved her face towards his, placing a soft kiss on her soft lips before speaking.

"It's just...Ally, I want it to be...perfect. I messed up with the whole prom thing, I didn't bring a horse, heck, I didn't even ask you to be my prom date until we were actually at the prom and..."

She silenced him by putting her dainty finger over his lips.

"But this _is_ perfect." She sounded like she really meant it.

"How so?"

She smiled and shrugged. "Because it's you and me, the way it should be."

He kissed her then, because he had to, knowing very well that they probably wouldn't stop, his boxers and her underwear soon making love in a messy pile on the floor as his fingers were eagerly rubbing her, _her_ fingers finding his almost too hard dick and stroking him, fast, until he was pretty sure that he was never, ever going to be able to think straight again.

She moaned as he pushed a finger inside her tight, soaked pussy, tryingly moving it in and out of her, until she grabbed him by the neck and almost screamed into his ear.

"I _need_ you, Austin. Now."

He aligned himself between her legs, and she looked right into his eyes as he slowly entered her, the expression on her face changing ever so slightly as he pushed himself all the way in, a loud curse or two leaving his mouth as her wetness engulfed him completely.

And then he was fully sheeted inside of her, and he could feel his dick throbbing, aching for friction, but he was hesitant to move as he didn't want to hurt her.

So, yeah.

He was inside of her.

No big deal.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

She moved her hips up against him, as to give him a hint that she wanted him to move, so he did so, ever so slightly but yet wonderfully.

She responded instantly, a sound that resembled a mix between a scream and a loud moan bouncing off the walls in the practice room, as she continued to roll her hips up against him, silently begging for him to continue.

He was grateful that his body seemed to instinctively know what to do, any nervousness that had lingered slowly replaced by some sort of sexual fire that he couldn't possibly keep under control, and he could feel her perfectly red and manicured nails digging into the skin on his back, a little deeper with each thrust, and it made _him_ want to go deeper, as well.

She was responding to his every move, their bodies as synchronized as their permanently attached tongues, and he started to move even faster, almost on reflex, her facial expression now one of only pleasure.

He could feel her pussy contract around him, he could feel her shortened breath on his neck, and he knew that he wouldn't last much longer.

Fuck.

He needed to make her feel as good as he knew she was going to (and already was) make him feel.

He reached in between them, finding her clit, massaging it in small circles while he continued to thrust into her, and she scratched him so hard that he was fairly sure he was bleeding when he made her cum, her oh so tight pussy squeezing him even tighter, her mouth latched onto his neck, and he felt his toes curls, rubbing up against her legs, his whole body fucking shaking as he, too, came undone, filling her, her moans still coming out in a string of incoherent noises, almost like a song, his groans jointing in, and he knew that that was the best song that had ever been sang in that room.

They laid there for a minute, side by side, before she turned to him.

"I think I need to get back home."

He nodded and they rose to get dressed, him helping her to zip _up_ the dress this time around, doing so while feeling himself hardening once again.

If he could, he would take her again. And again. And again.

But he knew he needed to get her home.

She locked up, and they began walking back to her house, hand in hand, the night dark but his mood anything but, the neighborhood almost completely silent as the king and his queen were wandering the streets of their kingdom.

He realized that his bright pink handkerchief was a severe mismatch to her clear red dress.

But a perfect mismatch.

Just like them.

And then they reached her house.

She gave him a small hug, her eyes stuck to his for a few seconds before she mumbled a quiet goodnight.

She had already opened the door, quietly so in an effort not to wake up her dad, when he pulled her back outside, slamming her up against the tiled wall, kissing her like there was no tomorrow, although the morning sun was already rising, signaling the beginning of another day.

For a fleeting second, he contemplated the possibility of taking her up against her front door, but stopped himself as he kind of wanted to tell her something.

He hesitated for about a millisecond before he started to speak.

"I...I'm so in love with you, Ally someday-you-will-tell-me-your-middle-name Dawson. I...I love you."

She smiled, the biggest smile he had been treated to all night.

"I love you too, Austin. I think I might have loved you for a very long time."

He pulled her into another kiss, a soft one, before she moved towards the door.

"Thank you for an amazing night, Austin."

He nodded in response. He still wasn't ready to say goodbye.

She was about to close the door when she spoke again.

"And Austin? You know your way in through my window."

And with that, she closed her front door shut.

He leaned up against her house wall for a couple of minutes, quickly replaying the events of the night in his head.

They were _finally_ together.

He might have wasted some time, he might have been an idiot, and scared, and dumb, and not very smart at all.

But this night had been good. Really good. Magical, even.

Really good and magical.

And he sighed to himself in pure happiness, as he made his way towards her bedroom window.

...

_**Thank you Kels for the title!**_


End file.
